Here is a brief synopsis:
It’s love on the high seas for Dean, a thirty-something bachelor taking his first cruise, hoping for a shipboard romance. On the prowl for the elusive hard-body, he quickly becomes disillusioned, wondering if his expectation of a boatload of beautiful sea nymphs is something found only in travel brochures.
Until he meets Angel.
She is the girl of his dreams, brought to life as a bewitching goddess, ready to engage in every sensual delight. Quickly lured into submission by Angel’s seductive charms, Dean is ready to surrender his heart and soul to this provocative beauty.
Until he meets Marcie . . .
The Cruise is a comedic and twisting satire about love on the high seas with Dean, a mid-thirties bachelor hoping to strike a mother load of beautiful and receptive women. It contains some mature language and situations and is best suited for the adult reader.
Thank you, Cecile, for hosting me today on All I Want and More with my new adult romantic satire, The Cruise – All That Glitters. The story is a humorous parody of a cruise ship romance as told from the perspective of Dean, a confident, self-assured single guy with a full head of hair, a bursting libido, and a suitcase crammed full of lustful expectations.
Driven more by his carnal urges than rational perspective, Dean heads to the high seas hoping for the opportunity to fulfill his fantasy of scoring with as many women as possible. In this humorous romp down the considerably bumpy road of adult romance, Dean meets two very different women, both of whom make him reconsider his irreverent and unconventional assessment of life in the raw lane.
In the following excerpt, Dean is seated across the desk from travel agent Debby. As she suggests the usual vacation options, Dean quickly realizes that none of them offer access to the mother lode—an abundance of hot, sexy women to explore and plunder. Rapidly losing interest, he is nearly ready to give up, until Debby makes her final recommendation . . . a cruise.
Here’s an excerpt:
I notice the huge travel posters behind Debby’s desk—four-color testaments to the blazing sunsets of Hawaii and the clear blue oceans of Tahiti and the Bahamas.
“I don’t know,” I say finally. “Maybe someplace by the water.”
Debby nods, her face appearing to move independently from the cosmetic landfill that covers it. “Sounds like you’re thinking about a beach vacation. Of course, some of the nicest beaches are found in the Caribbean.”
A tropical island. Palm trees. White sand. Gentle trade winds. And me, strolling along the shore, hand-in-hand with a native beauty, both of us wearing nothing but flowers in our hair.
“Sure, why not?”
“Are you a diver?” Debby asks. “There are lots of opportunities to explore old wrecks in the Caribbean.”
I shake my head no.
Shipwrecked. That wasn’t exactly what she’d said, but it sounded so . . . so perfect; mercifully spared by the churning sea, tossed onto a sandy beach where I sit dazed, not yet able to make it to my feet. Barely lucid enough to distinguish between reality and hallucination, I squint at the horizon, straining to focus, my vision still hazy from the salt and sun.
Suddenly, I detect movement, a blur in the distance. I feel a wave of sickening uncertainty as I realize I am not alone in this tropical paradise. I begin to imagine the worst: wild animals, or even headhunters, slowly sizing up their next trophy. I wait, unprotected and half-blind as a dozen indistinguishable forms move toward me.
In moments, I am surrounded. My soon-to-be captors reach for me, their touch bold and unafraid. Knowing I have no other choice, I resign myself to battle. I grab for the closest assailant, determined to dispatch as many of my attackers as possible. But my efforts are at once disarming and surprisingly unnecessary as my fingers find soft, yielding skin. I ease my grip, feeling the focus of my assault trembling with fear.
My vision beginning to clear, I squint through the briny mask that still covers my face and see the clouded forms turn rich with detail. As they peer from a sea of softly flowing blond hair, I am greeted with smiles of unmistakable welcome as a dozen pair of huge blue eyes meet my own.
They are the most beautiful castaways I can imagine. As I scan the few remaining shreds of fabric clinging to their taut, supple bodies, I realize I’m looking at the tattered uniforms of cheerleaders—high school seniors. I smile and open my arms as they gather around me, each one offering the press of bare flesh, each one in obvious compliance and ready submission, each one knowing instinctively that only I can protect her from certain danger that lurks in the coming night.
I wonder if that is somewhere in the brochure. I wonder if good ol’ Debby, Travel Professional, can recommend a resort with a great beach, close to a high school.
“I guess an island sounds okay,” I answer. “But it’s got to be affordable. Do these trips ever go on sale?”
“How about several islands for the price of one?” She hands me a glossy booklet and adds, “Take a look at this.”
I flip through the pictures. There are men in tuxedos and women in low-cut dresses, their heads tilted back, laughing at God knows what. A black waiter—he’s not laughing—stands by their table. On the opposite page, good-looking couples gather around a grand piano, sipping exotic drinks and showing off their tans.
I turn the page and see the layout of a huge cruise ship.
Suddenly, Debby holds up a single finger, indicating our conversation has been suspended. She turns to her computer screen and begins a dry reading of room accommodations and prices into the phone.
I open to the center foldout and find an overview of the boat’s recreation deck. An inset photo offers an aerial view of hundreds of empty lounge chairs lining the edges of two pools set end-to-end. Another picture shows the activity at sea, with many of those chairs occupied by the prone bodies of perfectly proportioned women. Darkly tanned and nearly naked—some have untied their tops—they boldly prop themselves up on their elbows, unfettered by fabric or social restraint. They look spectacular. And ripe. And ready for harvest. I decide it is a magnificent sight, this incredible ship of mostly beautiful women.
The Cruise – All That Glitters is available now
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Author Bio: Jaye Frances is the author of the paranormal-occult romance novel The Kure, the first book in The Kure series, The Possibilities of Amy, a coming-of-age story of high school romance, and The Cruise-All That Glitters, a humorous adult satire about a single guy hoping to have a romantic encounter at sea. Her upcoming work, scheduled for a Summer 2012 release, is titled The Beach, a sci-fi fantasy about a man who is given the opportunity to receive his ultimate wish and lives to regret it. She is also a featured columnist for the NUSA SUN magazine. Born in the Midwest, Jaye readily admits that her life’s destination has been the result of an open mind and a curiosity about all things irreverent. When she’s not consumed by her writing, Jaye enjoys cooking, traveling to all places tropical and “beachy” and taking pictures—lots of pictures—many of which find their way to her website. Jaye lives on the central gulf coast of Florida, sharing her home with one husband, six computers, four cameras, and several hundred pairs of shoes. For more information, visit Jaye’s website at www.jayefrances.com, or Jaye’s Blog at http://blog.jayefrances.com
Link for The Cruise – All That Glitters on Amazon:
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